


This Really Happened (save for Werewolf Hero)

by Ookamisan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dysphoria, FTM Stiles Stilinski, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety, Trans Male Character, Trans Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookamisan/pseuds/Ookamisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off my personal experience.<br/>Stiles has been texting Matt Daehler for a few weeks and they decide to hang out. Matt way oversteps his boundaries and send Stiles into a panic attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Really Happened (save for Werewolf Hero)

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally based off of my own experience I just had today. And I needed to get it out. Since I wrote it exactly as how I felt, it could be very triggering to anyone who may have had experiences similar to this. Everything up until Stiles meets Derek at his house, happened to me and it is how I remember it. This seems like something fucking Matt Daehler would do. Please heed the tags very carefully.

  
"I wont be long." Mrs. Daehler said as she walked out the door. Leaving Stiles and Matt to themselves.

Stiles waved politely as she left. Following the awkward silence, Stiles idly looked around the living room at the pictures on the mantel. Little trinkets next to them with their own little story that wasn't clear, but only made them more charming to Stiles. The room wasn't exactly air conditioned well, the ceiling fan not doing much to help the room in ninety degree heat and crushing humidity.

His phone beeped in his pocket and he opened it to see a text from his dad: **Are you having fun? When are you coming home?**

Stiles replied:  **I will head home soon. Yes I'm having fun.**

"Everything ok?" Matt asked, sitting on the couch.

"Oh, yeah. My dad's just asking when I'll be home." Stiles fanned himself with his t-shirt as he sat down next to Matt. "Man, it is really fucking hot." he laughed, trying to break the silence. Talking about the weather, of course.

"Yeah and I'm sure the binder doesn't help." Matt said, arm thrown over the back of the couch.

Stiles laughed maybe a little too jovially, anxiety clear in his tense smile. He had just met Matt Daehler that day after weeks of texting back and forth. Even though they had spent a good chunk of the day together, Stiles joining Matt at the blood drive as emotional support, conversation was still tough. Being left alone for the first time definitely wasn't helping.

"You can just take it off, y'know. I don't care." Matt shrugged.

Stiles strongly considered it as sweat trickled and pooled down the back of his jeans, showing signs of matting his styled hair to his head soon. He was wearing a baggy shirt as well so maybe no one one would be able to tell he had more than the flat chest the binder created, as long as he stayed hunched.

"Yeah, I think I will." he got up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door and quickly peeling off his shirt and binder. His binder made a wet peeling sound like peeling a swim suit off. He fanned himself desperately, relieved by his burning and swampy skin being exposed to the air. He pulled his drenched t-shirt backmon and walked down, making a show of how relieved he was, still fanning himself by shaking the front of his shirt.

"Oh, man!" Stiles said, flopping back down on the couch and immediately hunching over to hide his chest. Stiles suddenly felt fingers tracing his spine, and he froze, but otherwise pretended not to notice. Matt just cared, that's all. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through facebook.

"I don't think my mom has quite gotten the hint." Matt said, referencing the fact that Matt's mother kept calling Stiles by female pronouns.

Stiles shrugged, really too hot and exhausted to care too much. "I'm not going to correct her just yet. I almost never do. I never know how people will react. Does your mom even know what transgender means?"

"Uhh, maybe? Probably the more, stigmatized, stereotypical idea of it though."

Stiles chuckled in basic acknowledgement, staring out the open window to the trees outside. He felt Matt's trailing fingers move from his back to the top of his head, playing with his styled hair.

Stiles moved from the couch to sit on the floor, not up for Matt's touch, but not confident enough to tell him to stop. Instead of quitting however, Matt took the opportunity to lay down across the couch and rest his chin on Stiles's shoulder, reading his facebook as Stiles scrolled and starting liking random posts he wasn't really reading as Matt's fingers now acquired the back of Stiles's neck which were surprisingly hot considering how hot the room and general temperature was. Stiles shivered and his sweat started to turn cold.

Matt pulled away and Stiles breathed for a moment, and then Matt's burning palm was on his thigh and Stiles wanted to curse his body as a spark of arousal took charge despite his crippling anxiety. He continued scrolling.

"This doesn't make you uncomfortable does it?"

Stiles, feeling like an idiot, shook his head. Playing cool.

Matt actually pulled away again. And Stiles let out a breath again. When, once _again_ , Matt's chin was over his shoulder, making remarks about the cat post that Stiles was currently staring at but not really seeing.

Matt, again, pulled away and this time gave him some space. Stiles exhaled slowly. He tried reading funny posts out loud to Matt, laughing a little too hard to relieve the stress.

"I should probably head home at four thirty, in about fifteen minutes." Stiles said, sounding surprisingly calm.

"Alright."

Fingers were back, messing up the already controlled chaos that was Stiles's hair. "Your hair is so soft." Matt said, and then his hand was back on Stiles's thigh, and his body betrayed him as the heat and proximity of Matt's palm made Stiles's sex burn with tension.

 _What the fUCK?_ Stiles bit his tongue angrily as his heart rate accelerated dangerously, making his head swim. Was he even breathing?

Matt's hand slipped under the hem of Stiles's shirt as if he was going to slip it down Stiles's pants, however Stiles couldn't retain the flinch when Matt's burning palm made contact with his now clammy belly, and Stiles wanted to cry at the very painful pang of arousal that he was convinced was mostly based on fear, anticipation, and the fact that intimacy had been out of his life for five, going on six years after a traumatizing relationship with good ol' Jackson Whittemore.

Matt mistook the flinch to being ticklish, and turned predatory, digging his fingers into Stiles's sides, who immediately flailed and launched away from the couch in laughter that lied for his emotions. Matt quickly followed him to the floor, grabbing a foot and tickling the bottoms while Stiles squealed and fell onto his back kicking and protesting. Suddenly Matt was between his legs, hauling Stiles by the knees to straddle Matt's hips and pulled Stiles up into a sitting position.

Stiles knew this was bad. This was getting really bad. His arms shook and his teeth chattered with fear and he couldn't look Matt in the face, his smile feeling pained and truly a smile of fear rather than joy. Matt pulled Stiles into a hug, holding all of Stiles's weight on his elbows. Stiles hugged him back, his mind seeming to quit and his control on his extremities leaving him. He felt no longer like he was his own body, but rather a soul trapped and watching from inside his body, forced to feel whatever the body chose to feel. He clutched onto Matt for the sake of trying not to fall into unconsciousness as it felt like a giant void had opened beneath him, threatening to pull him down. 

He stared over Matt's shoulder as he shook in his arms, teeth chattering and arousal burning a hole in his belly. What was going to happen? This felt so far already. He leaned back a bit and was found to be two inches away from Matt's face. He could only see the corner of his mouth and one fully dilated, black pupil staring at him. Matt's own heavy breathing fanning over his face. He waited, breath baited, body quivering, heart beat skyrocketing and anticipation threatening to knock him unconscious.

Matt dove, kissing Stiles with a hot, open mouth and tongue, teething at Stiles's bottom lip.

Stiles heard his body let out a high, breathy moan like a slut as their mouths enclosed. The horribly feminine sound made his eyes burn and yet he clutched to Matt harder.

Every single memory of him and Jackson that had been repressed in the past five, almost six years flooded his mind and his body siezed with the force of the information.

He had no idea how long they kissed, whether it was a second, or five minutes. He just remembers kissing Matt back as if his life literally depended on it. As if the fountain of youth was obtained through Matt's lips themselves. He remembers clutching onto his shoulder blades and arching his hips up. His arousal screaming as loud as his brain. His ears rang, like when he had the nightmares where he screamed so hard his entire being shook but not a single sound escaped.

And then nothing. Matt was gone from on top of him, and Stiles couldn't move. He lay on the floor, legs still straddling Matt who stared down at him seeming pleased with himself, as he tried to process the world. He felt paralyzed, and he began laughing like a lunatic, covering his eyes with his arm.

He distantly heard his name being called but he literally could not answer.  
When suddenly, as if life had been restored, he shot up, gasping and curling away, saying shakily, "Th-that's all I can do today. It's b-been t-too long since," He felt his face cringe, ugly, as tears threatened to spill.

"What?" Matt took his hand into his larger one.

"...since anyone's ever... ever..." he let out a dry sob, and he was being hauled to sit against the couch. He still couldn't look Matt in the face, who stroked his chin softly.

"I wanted to thank you." Matt said. 

"O-oh."

"I'm sorry if I triggered your anxiety." Matt said.

Stiles stared at his hand inside of Matt's, stroking Matt's thumb with his own, not out of affection but trying to remember how to breath and what the ABC's were.  
_This, is a thumb._ Stiles thought to himself.

"Yeah, a little bit." Stiles wiped away non-existent hair from his eyes. A habit from before he came out and still had long bangs. "My ex really hurt me."

Matt pulled him into a tight hug. "You'll always be safe with me."

Stiles didn't return the hug this time.

He checked his phone to see that the time was four twenty-three. "I should really get going." He stood up.

"Let me drive you back to your car." Matt offered.

"Okay."

The ride down Matt's half-mile long driveway was silent. However he put his hand on Stiles's thigh once again and he felt like he was going to crumble at any moment. A gross taste building in his mouth.

Matt pulled up next to Stiles's jeep, who promptly got out, feigning a smile. "I will text you when to hang out again. Bye."

He wasted no time turning on his jeep and leaving. He didn't even know how to get home from here. He just drove. He drove for ten minutes through the farm land until he found a dollar store. He realized the horrible taste in his mouth that was building in the back of his throat was Matt's own flavor. When he used his hand to wipe his mouth, he smelled Matt on himself. Gross.

He began shaking all over again as he walked quickly into the store, grabbing a pack of gum and probably looking like a tweeker with his messy hair and blotchy face, shaking and on the verge of tears.

He paid for the gum and promptly stuffed four pieces into his mouth, the tears finally spilling over as he sat back in his burning jeep.

He picked up his phone to see a text from Matt, teasing him if he knew his way home. He ignored it and texted Derek, his best friend:  
**I'm not okay.**

Derek immediately responded: **What's** **wrong???**

Stiles did his best to type through his tears and trembling fingers. He felt his body give up and he dropped the phone, collapsing into hysterical sobs, holding onto the steering wheel as he sobbed and rode out his panic attack.

He didnt check to see if Derek replied, just texted him saying: **I'm on way my home.**

Stiles wasn't sure how he made it home. He probably ran a few stop signs. His grip on the steering wheel like iron. When he reached home he saw Derek looking very stressed, hand buried in his hair, talking to Stiles's dad, the sherriff.

Derek ran to Stiles as he parked and got out of the jeep. "Stiles! What happened? Who-"

"He fucking kissed me! Matt fucking kissed me!" the anger started to set in as he stomped his way up the lawn to the house. "And I can't get his fucking taste out of my mouth!" he slammed the bathroom door and stripped viciously, taking a scalding shower, gargling water and scrubbing his entire body until he turned lobster red. He angrily brushed his teeth and used almost a fifth of an entire Listerine bottle to get Matt out of his mouth. He hacked grossly as the taste lingered.

"Do I need to press charges?" The sherriff said as Stiles came out clean and in pajama pants.

Stiles sighed. "No, I don't think so."

"What the fuck happened?" Derek said.

"Matt kissed me. Without my consent."

Derek's eyes burned red as he growled deep within his chest.

It took a while to calm everyone down, and dinner was quiet. However when Stiles was sitting in bed, waiting to be tired, Derek sat next to him. "So are you going to give him another chance?"

"I dont know."

Derek pulled him into a hug by the shoulders. "It's not ok what he did. And he needs to know that. I will be here for you. No matter what."


End file.
